Reasons
by autumn midnights
Summary: Daphne and Astoria, the night after the Battle. Astoria had her reasons for going back to fight; she knew that the Death Eaters were wrong. And this is why Daphne admires her. No pairings.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: This is for ReillyJade's 'After The Battle Challenge', and part of my own determination to write more Trio-Era things. This is slightly related to 'Secret Enemy' and 'Sisterly Conversation', but you don't need to read those in order to read this.

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Daphne Greengrass rolls out of her bed and silently pads across the floor, slipping out of the dormitory. Pansy, Tracey, and Millicent are all asleep, not that it really matters. They wouldn't stop her even if they were awake; the events that occurred earlier that day - oh, actually yesterday, Daphne notes, looking at the clock - have jolted everybody's perspective. Where usually if she tried to sneak out the other girls would bombard her with questions, she doubts that would be the case.

She creeps to the common room and sits down in one of the largest armchairs. To think, just the previous night all the students in Hogwarts had been roused in the middle of the night and made to come to the Great Hall, and then, Death Eaters invaded Hogwarts and many students fought against them. Students had lost their lives, even; Daphne had seen dead bodies laying out in the Hall, both young and old.

It's a sobering thought, especially when she considers her own sister. Astoria had been with the other Slytherins, following Professor Slughorn out to the Hog's Head, but by the time they reached the pub, she had been gone. Daphne had panicked the whole time they were there, saying fifth year Astoria shouldn't be going up against Death Eaters who were twice or three times her age, to the point where both Theodore Nott and Pansy threatened to _Silencio _her if she wouldn't shut up.

After a period of time - which felt like ten hours but couldn't have been - somebody came and allowed the Slytherins to re-enter, saying the Battle was over. Daphne had searched all around, finally finding her sister arm-in-arm with two Gryffindors, of all people. The three of them had apparently fought together, and although they were disheveled, exhausted, and all three had minor injuries, they were safe.

The Battle of Hogwarts had affected everybody; almost every student in Hogwarts knew somebody, whether family or friend or even just a classmate, who had died. It was obvious, seeing everybody run about the Great Hall, sobbing as they saw people they knew, that nobody had been immune. Daphne counts herself lucky, now, as she looks back; sure, Vincent Crabbe died, and other people in her year, but she hadn't lost anybody close to her.

She stands up and paces around the room. Voldemort and the Death Eaters are no longer a threat to the Wizarding world. It wouldn't have mattered, she thinks, which side had won. She's a pureblood Slytherin; although she's certainly not as obnoxious about blood purity as Malfoy - who gets on her nerves because of his arrogance and the way he always complains to his father - or Pansy, she accepts and believes that purebloods are superior. She didn't fight against the Death Eaters, and she wouldn't have if they had turned out to be the victors.

But Astoria would have, she realizes suddenly. Astoria would have fought back, and likely gotten herself killed for it. For that reason she's glad that Dumbledore's Army and the others on their side triumphed over the Death Eaters; that way, at least Astoria is alive and well.

"Daphne?"

The sudden noise makes Daphne jump, and she looks up. The person she was thinking about just seconds before is right there; her sister stands on the bottom step, dressed in flimsy silk pajamas. She looks tinier than normal as she steps down and crosses the common room to where Daphne is. "You couldn't sleep, either?" Daphne asks, pulling her sister into a quick hug.

"No." Simultaneously, the sisters move to sit down on the comfortable armchair. Astoria is so small and slender they can fit into one quite easily. "The Battle..." Astoria lets the sentence trail off, and for a little while it looks as though she's not going to say anything further. "I didn't expect it to be that horrible," she says. "I mean, I knew that it was fighting to kill and all that, but it's just...seeing the bodies in the Great Hall - Merlin, that girl Sally-Anne in your year was literally in pieces. I can't get any of it out of my head."

Daphne nods. "I know what you mean," she says quietly. "I wasn't there, at the actual fight, as you know, but I saw the aftereffects. It was horrible, seeing everybody like that...seeing how it affected people." She pauses, and then continues on a slightly different topic. "Why did you go back, anyway? You know you were risking your life-"

"I do know." Astoria stares at the empty fireplace, not responding. Suddenly Daphne's struck by the appearance of her sister; thin and pale, she looks no more than thirteen or fourteen even though she recently turned sixteen. She looks much too young to have just fought in a battle. Why, even sixteen is too young. "I had to, Daphne. The Death Eaters are pure evil, and I had to do my part to make sure that they didn't take over. They needed everybody possible, even though they wouldn't have admitted it. And then with what I did this year..."

"Huh?" The older girl wrinkles her forehead in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"It was me, Daphne. I was the one who wrote all those messages on the chalkboard, the ones that told the Carrows to leave, the ones that insinuated they were together, the ones that talked about how excellent it would be if it was them that got detention and not us. I was the one who sneaked out every week, inconsistently, and wrote those messages. I drew those pictures. I signed them 'Secret Enemy', because that's what I was. I couldn't join Dumbledore's Army; not only would they never accept me, but I'm not Gryffindor enough to talk back to the Carrows' faces. But I have just enough Gryffindor in me to know that the things they were doing were wrong."

Astoria's words are vehement; her face is set. It's the most passionate that Daphne has ever seen her younger sister, and she's surprised. She never knew that Astoria, quiet little Astoria who usually hid behind a book whenever somebody tried to talk to her, had this much depth to her. "Wait, you're the Secret Enemy?" Daphne stares at her sister. "You did all that? I never would have guessed it was you...I figured it was somebody from Dumbledore's Army trying to draw attention away from the group."

"Good," Astoria responds. "I'm glad I covered my tracks so well; that was the whole point. I was cautious; nobody knew I could draw the way I did, I disguised my handwriting, and I was extremely inconsistent with the days I did it. I had to, though, Daphne. I couldn't just stand by and let them keep torturing students with no repercussions. And it's that same reason why I fought yesterday. I know what's right and wrong; I don't live in shades of gray like everybody else in this House. The Sorting Hat was tempted to put me in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, and after this year, I can see why."

"Merlin," Daphne murmurs. "I had no idea..." She runs a hand through her hair, sighing slightly. "I'd never do the things you did, you know. I'd never risk myself like that. But I can understand your motive, your reasons; you acted in a way that I never would, a way that was much more reminiscent of a Gryffindor than a Slytherin. Even still...you were doing what you thought was right. In a way, I admire you for it. You've set yourself apart, Astoria."

"I know," the younger girl answers, staring into the flames. "I'm not really a Slytherin, I think. I don't know which House I should really be in; I begged the Sorting Hat to place me here because it was expected, and because I didn't want to be apart from you. But now, I think, if I were to be Sorted again...I think it would take the Hat a while to decide, because I know I have traits of more than one House."

"That's why I admire you," the older Greengrass sister says. "You see? I always have fit in, doing what will allow me to remain comfortable here. You were willing to risk it all - your life, your status here, you were even risking getting detention - just because it was right in your eyes. It's admirable, really."

"I had my reasons," answers Astoria. "I had to do what's right."

Daphne suddenly groans as a thought hits her. "Shit," she mutters in a very unladylike, un-Daphne-like fashion. "Shit, shit, shit."

Astoria seems slightly amused at her sister's language, but her expression turns serious. "What's the matter?"

"This whole year, all of us - everyone above fifth year, really - have been forced by the Carrows to Cruciate students who have earned detention. And I'm of age, an adult officially, and so are all of the seventh years. Do you think we'll have to stand trial?" Any trace of tiredness is instantly gone; her mind is sharp and clear. She doesn't want to go to Azkaban, but the possibility is there - after all, use of an Unforgivable Curse is supposed to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. She remembers Professor Moody's class in fourth year.

"I don't know," Astoria says slowly. "I highly doubt you - anybody, really - will get a real sentence. After all, I highly doubt they can penalize people who used the curse; if they hadn't...what was the rule? I was never there, because they didn't think the fifth years could cast it properly."

"The rule was that if you were summoned to cast the Cruciatus Curse on somebody who had gotten detention, you had to do it. If you refused or you let them off easy, you'd both get it - for double the amount of time." She recites the rule dully; the Carrows had put it in place in order to force more students to perform the curse. Even still, some of the D.A. - Longbottom, Lovegood, Weasley...others, too, she believed - had refused. Idiots. Noble idiots. Shaking that thought out of her head - according to the Sorting Hat, her sister could have been one of those noble idiots - she glances at Astoria. "Does it mean they'll let us off? Because we were, I don't know, coerced or forced or whatever?"

"Maybe." Astoria puts her chin in her hand. "I'm no expert in the law, certainly. But I can't imagine them making all of you spend years in Azkaban for that - maybe you'll get fined, or maybe a short time, but definitely not a life sentence."

"You're lucky," Daphne mutters, fear racing through her mind. A fine wouldn't be bad; the Greengrasses are purebloods, after all, and they have a large vault at Gringotts full of gold. But even spending a short time, like a few months, in Azkaban...that would be horrible. She's heard the stories. "You're only a fifth year, and they never asked you to do a detention." She shudders at the thought of Azkaban, and suddenly little Astoria is folding her up into a soft embrace, comforting her.

They pull away, finally, and Astoria shrugs. "Another year and I would have had to. It's only thanks to Potter and his friends, defeating...Voldemort -" Daphne gasps, but Astoria ignores it -"that I'm safe, that we all are. She yawns. "I like talking to you, Daphne, but I'm exhausted. I'm going up to bed; see you later." She stands up and heads back to the fifth-year dormitory, and Daphne stays curled up in the armchair.

Her mind is still bouncing from thing to thing, all related to either this school year, the Battle of Hogwarts, or Astoria. She had her reasons for acting the way she did, Daphne thinks, and although she doesn't agree, she still admires her sister. In a way, she always will.

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**I love Astoria characterized like this. I know some people see her as Narcissa-like, but I've never imagined Astoria to be a typical pureblood Slytherin. Obviously, from this fic.**

**This is a oneshot and will not be continued.**


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